


After the End and Before the Beginning

by conej0s



Category: Homestuck
Genre: End of Act 6: [S] Collide, M/M, Reconciliation, Teen Angst, boys being dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conej0s/pseuds/conej0s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk and Jake sort their shit out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the End and Before the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> title is literally just a reversal of one of the songs off of volume nine.

He cleans the barrel of one of his technicolor pistols on the hem of his shirt idly, looking apprehensive. He stands away from the others on the edge of the platform, seeming unsure about what to do beyond staring wistfully into the starry oblivion. His exposed legs are peppered with scrapes and bruises of a variety of shapes and sizes, but to your relief, they seem to be the extent of the damage he’s taken. Something seems off about him, you note. He’s eerily quiet, and he stands in such a way that his posture could almost be described as forlorn.

Suddenly, though, he turns around and looks at you. You can’t quite read his expression, but he seems almost trepid.

 _Might as well approach him,_ you figure.

When you near him, he averts his eyes to his feet. You wish you knew what he was thinking, another thing you envy about the ghostly spider girl.

“Hey, man,” You comment, trying not to let the concern seep into your voice.

He places his gun in the holster, but doesn’t look up. “Howdy,” He greets feebly.

You search your mind for something, anything to say. “Pretty brutal battle back there.” You wince at how your voice cracks on “pretty”.

He pulls on the hem of his shirt. “Sure had my share of fisticuffs,” He agrees.

You offer a small smirk, urging him to continue. “Oh yeah?”

He takes the cue, perking up. “It… it probably wasn’t as sensational as whatever you did, but…” He trails off.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, you ought to have seen the spectacle.” He begins, the enthusiasm returning to his words. “I was wrestling these green ragamuffins all the way to Timbuktu and back. Bullets slinging, fists flying, and, uh…” he falters. “You probably don’t want to hear about it. Consarn it, why must I always prattle on about myself?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to hear about it? Shit, we have some serious yarns to spin. It’s like a goddamn craft store up in here. Outta the way old ladies, we got some premo yarns to exchange.” You pause. That… definitely wasn’t your best extended metaphor. You try to reorient yourself. “I mean, we’ve just been through some crazy biznasty. Why not talk about it?”

“I didn’t even ask you about your escapades! All I ever do is yammer about myself like a cocksure prick!”

“Eh, it was no big. Just kind of wrecked the shit of some insane one-eyed carapacian clones. Kind of got decapitated, but that’s just how it goes.” You explain offhandedly.

“Still, I can’t believe I did that again. To you, no less. It’s no wonder you and the gals can’t stand me anymore.” He splutters. You think he might actually cry. Shit.

Your brow furrows. “What? Jake, what the hell makes you think we can’t stand you?” _What’s gotten into this guy’s head_ , you wonder. Christ, you hope it wasn’t all the bullshit you pulled. Might just have to commit seppuku at that point.

“I… I don’t know. I’m such a bumbling twit that I managed to mangle my standings with all of you in one fell swoop. I put you and Jane through the wringer something awful. How could you not absolutely detest me after all of the turmoil I put you guys through?” He locks eyes with you, and you tense. His expression is pained with glassy eyes to match.

You rest your hand on his shoulder, hoping you’re not breaching some kind of boundary. “Dude, what kind of assholes do you take us for? For starters, Jane’s a complete softy. Sure, she was angry with you, but you know her. Girl can’t stay mad at anybody, especially one of us. Me, you, and Roxy are her best friends, and we always will be.”

He doesn’t look very reassured. “She said we weren’t friends anymore.” He gives a slight sniffle.

You rub circles into his shoulder with your thumb. “C’mon, dude, there’s no crying in baseball,” You console, making a movie reference because you know that’s the best way to get through to him.

“A League of Their Own,” He answers shakily. “That’s a good one.”

“They all are to you, Jake.” You jeer. Wait, shit. You’re supposed to be comforting him. “Anyway, c’mon, you knew I wouldn’t shit you like that. Okay, I would, but not about this. I talked to Jane; I know she didn’t mean it when she said that.”

“Well,” He chews his lip, muffling his speech. “Surely you’re still upset with me.”

You give him an incredulous look, or at least the best one you can from behind your shades. “Do I honestly look upset with you?”

“Well, I don’t think so, but it’s honestly hard to tell what with your shades and such.”

You roll your eyes. Time to pull out the big guns. You do the unspeakable and take off your shades, then look back at him. Okay, it isn’t unspeakable. It actually isn’t even that big of a deal, but you have to make your point. “Alright. I reiterate; do I look upset to you?”

“Oh shit, the shades are comin’ off!” You hear Roxy call from the other side of the pad.

Jake chuckles, but stays on track nonetheless. “Okay, you don’t look upset… but I still don’t see why you would be so forgiving.” He admits.

“What did _you_ ever do to me? You should be pissed at _me_ , if anything.” You put your shades back on.

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself.

“I mean, you have every right to be fed up with me. Between the AR and me, you were being Strider’d from all sides twenty-four-seven. You needed some space, man. Jesus christ, you can only take so much of one guy.” You concede.

Jake kicks at the ground with the tip of his shoe. “Er, well, if I’m being frank with you, Dirk, I suppose I would have preferred to start things off in a much more pedestrian way.”

“I… don’t think I follow.” You scratch at the back of your head absent-mindedly.

“What I’m saying is that I would have liked if you, the real you, not some bloody robot, to just tell me how you felt before things got out of hand.” He looks away from you, as if he felt what he said was to brash. His voice softens. “Good gravy, Dirk, I knew you liked me for quite a while before all the tomfoolery with the game started. Or at least I was pretty sure. You, uh, ‘lay it on thick,’ so to speak.”

You stop touching your head for fear of messing up your hair. “Well, I think part of that was because AR had gotten railroaded into being a matchmaker.” You shake your head. “Wait, no. I’m not going to blame all of this on Hal. I have to take ownership of the shit I did, and frankly I could’ve gotten rid of him whenever I wanted to. Besides, I can’t pretend like I would never do or say the things he did, because he’s still me. Fucked-up, thirteen-year-old computer me, but me nonetheless. Let’s face it: I smothered and manipulated you no matter how you slice it.”

He frowns. “Manipulated? I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh, horseshit. Even my alternate adult self was a manipulative piece of shit, according to Dave.” You argue, looking down at your shoes. Patches of shiny green satin peek through the many scuffs and tears caused by the recent fight. Your eyes burn slightly.

There’s a tense silence. It can’t have been more than half a minute long, but the way your muscles tightened with each passing second made it feel as though time had slowed to a crawl.

“Well, it isn’t as though my actions were much better,” Jake puts in finally, kneading his palm with his thumb, “Whenever we’d disagree, I would shut you out and unload my problems onto our hapless comrades. Sometimes there wouldn’t even be provocation; there are days when all I wanted to do was vanish and get reabsorbed into my own little world. I was so focused on what I wanted that I didn’t even bother to think about how my random lone ventures would affect you.”

Your brow furrows. “Badly, but you’ve probably figured that out by now. During your disappearances, I’d spend half the time ruminating on every mistake and argument we’d ever had, berating myself for whatever it was I thought I did wrong. I’d worry my balls off the other half because I couldn’t tell if you were off brooding somewhere or if a skeleton fucked up your shit and you were bleeding out on the floor of a cave.

“But who could really blame you? I should’ve taken a damn hint and stepped back before it got that bad in the first place. I’ve known you more than long enough to understand that you’re a pretty solitary guy, but I was on you like flies on shit.” _Nice job, dude. Compare the guy to feces._ You berate yourself inwardly. “I-I mean, you’re not shit, what am I saying. I was on you like, like…”

“Like shades on a ludicrously cool fella?” He offers wryly.

The corner of your mouth quirks up for the slightest of moments. “Yeah, let’s go with that. Point is, you can’t blame yourself for wanting some alone time after I was breathing down your neck like that.”

“But it wasn’t just ‘alone time’, Dirk! Most of what I would do after disappearing was spill the beans to Roxy and Jane. Part of the reason why Jane blew her lid was because the only time I would ever speak to her was when I wanted her advice about our relationship, and I wouldn’t even bother listening to her end of things. What sort of boyfriend blabs behind your back instead of just having it out with you? A right blockhead, that’s what sort.”

You avert your eyes. “I mean, yeah, but I feel like that happened because I made you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me. The lopsidedness of the whole ordeal was probably creating this unspoken expectation, like if things weren’t flawless on your end, you were letting me down.”

He purses his lips, unsure what to say.

“Listen, I knew we weren’t exactly playing on a level field. You shouldn’t have had to pick between letting me down and pretending to feel things you don’t.” You clarify.

“Whoa there, Dirk. Last I checked you weren’t the one with the space-age mind-reading powers. What makes you so certain I didn’t feel anything for you?” He asks wearily. “You may be sharp, but don’t suppose you know how I feel better than I do. The things I did were out of cowardice, not some imaginary expectation that I had to be perfect.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “You weren’t… afraid of me, were you?”

“No, no, no, I mean- I was afraid of the confrontation and consequences! What makes you think I’d be afraid of you?” Jake splutters.

You can’t put an answer to words, but your mind flicks back to the way Dave described the tumultuous relationship he had with his Bro to you. A part of you aches when you’re reminded of the parallels between Dave’s childhood and your relationship with Jake.

“Good gravy, the things I felt were far from fear. To be quite frank, I felt… overwhelmed.” He glances up at you, trying to read your expression. “I had never expected you to be as… doting and touchy-feely as you were. It was kind of peculiar to me, given the way I’d known you for the previous several years. I never realized how adjusted I’d become to being alone. Foreign is how I would describe it.

“I spend all this time getting to know a guy who comes across as distant and unyielding, and you turn out to be the opposite in person. It made me wonder which one you truly were.” He continues.

You sigh. “I’m not really sure. You and Dave probably know better than anyone else. Before the session, everyone saw me as more than I actually was. Most people still do. My fuckups with you guys have exposed the person I really am, and that’s not really a person I’m happy to be.”

He scratches his chin, one of his many comical idiosyncrasies. “You said earlier that you, and probably the girls, were holding me to an unreasonable standard. Maybe it was the other way around all along.” He puts his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Have you ever tried… relaxing and just going with what feels right? Maybe having some faith and letting things happen naturally?”

“Easier said than done.” You chuckle ruefully.

“Maybe so, but it’s worth a shot!”

You smirk. “You know, for all that noise about feeling cowardly, I gotta hand it to you for how open you’ve been just now. Maybe I could stand to follow your lead for a change.”

“Well, I think I might have John to thank for some of that. He’s a fellow who always knows how to lift your spirits. His encouraging words improved my bravado, perhaps they can remedy your… busybody-ness, I suppose you could call it.” He offers gently.

You gesture dismissively, but maintain your smirk. “Nah, I think Dave’s got me covered there.”

“Seems the good ol’ ecto-son council is the right way to go!” He remarks chipperly. “Let’s make a joint, new-universe resolution. I work on being up-front with my friends, you work on going with the flow, and we both agree to leave that whole mess behind us and start fresh as friends.” He holds out his hand. “How ‘bout it, Dirk?”

You give him a genuine smile. “You read my mind, bro.” You agree, offering him your hand.

**Author's Note:**

> the tone is all over the place in this haha wtf am i doing. there are prolly a lot of typos in this... so just let me know if there are any glaringly stupid ones i need to fix.
> 
> were the shaking hands or holding hands at the end???/?/????
> 
> it is
> 
> a mystery :O


End file.
